


Wayward

by CastielWinchester96



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Famous Dean Winchester, Homeless Sam, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Musician Dean, Unrelated Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 09:59:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10591686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CastielWinchester96/pseuds/CastielWinchester96
Summary: Grammy award winning solo artist, and previous Guitarist of the multi-platinum selling band, ‘Wayward’, Dean Winchester returns to his hometown of Lawrence, Kansas for the funeral of his Grandmother. After drowning his sorrows at the local bar, he is nearly shot by an armed mugger, but ultimately saved by a tall, shaggy haired kid with not enough meat on his bones. Taking the street kid in after he takes ill, Dean’s other life is calling him in the form of his manager pressuring him to be a part of a ‘Wayward’ reunion tour. Dean must choose what’s most important, his career or Sam.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The first song, ‘Impala’, is written to this backing track. Dean starts singing at 0:25 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CnkmICCJQWY
> 
> The second song, ‘Now I’m Yours’ is written to this backing track. Dean starts singing at 0:23. The chorus starts at 1:48 - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ONH44DPqjU

As in any movie, the day of the funeral had brought with it a torrential rainstorm that was refusing to ease up. Dressed in black, tie now pulled down, and his top two buttons undone, Dean was already up to his second pint. His head was getting fuzzy, but Dean found himself liking the feeling a little. As long as it blocked out the grief for his Grandmother he was experiencing, he didn’t mind. He usually wasn’t this much of a lightweight, but he let himself off given the circumstances.

“Last call.” The bartender shouted.

Dean winced at the volume of the man’s voice before downing the last of his glass, paying, and making his out of the bar into the rain. He didn’t have a coat, despite knowing that it was pouring before the funeral even began, and so he removed his suit jacket and held it above him to act as an umbrella.

Town was quiet, everyone having been sensible enough to not go out in weather like this. His old apartment was a couple of blocks away from the bar, and Dean couldn’t be more thankful for the fact he hadn’t sold the place once he’d hit the big time.

“Brr...” He shivered, starting to regret having taken off his suit jacket.

‘ _Click_ ’

Dean furrowed an eyebrow at the sound.

“Give me your wallet.” A threatening voice spoke up.

Turning towards it, his gaze fell to the hooded guy holding a pistol.

“Woah, easy there.”

The mugger swung a punch which caught him under the eye. “Give me. Your. Wallet.” He emphasised.

“Gah.” Dean moaned. “I don’t have it on me.” He explained, lowering his suit jacket from over his head.

This didn’t sit well with the mugger. “Hey! Keep your hands up!”

“I’m just putting my jacket down.” He placed the suit jacket down on the ground before turning out his pockets. “See, no money. I just used the last of it at the bar.”

“Do you think this is funny?!” The mugger approached him, an evil grin on his face as he pushed the pistol under Dean’s chin.

“Hey, dickwad!” Another voice shouted.

Dean turned to see another hooded figure walk over.

“You got no business here, Campbell.” The mugger threatened.

“Do you really think it’s gonna’ end well for ya’ if you put a bullet through that guy? Are you really that stupid?”

Dean winced as the other guy antagonised the mugger, whose gun was still against his throat.

“The police would have you in four seconds. This isn’t a big place, they know whose out on the streets here. It’s not worth it.” The other voice continued. “My advice, make a deal with him where he keeps his mouth shut and you don’t shoot, and then you fuck off.”

The mugger looked to Dean before he huffed angrily, pressing the gun harder into his neck. “You don’t say a fucking word, d’ya hear me?!”

Dean nodded quickly. “Not a word.”

“Good.” The gun was removed before the mugger sprinted off.

Releasing a deep, panicked breath, Dean turned, expecting to see the other guy, but he was gone.

* * *

Having forced himself out of bed, Dean made his way down to the grocery store. Grabbing some basics, he walked round to the canned food aisle.

A kid stood by the shelf jumped slightly as his eyes caught sight of him.

Dean furrowed an eyebrow, confused by the action before a thought entered his head.

_‘What if that was the guy from last night?’_

Shoving the contents of his pockets back, the kid went to rush off, but Dean grabbed him by the arm.

“Hey!”

“Get off me!” The kid snarled, hand going for the pocket of his jeans.

Dean grabbed the other arm too, guessing that the kid was probably going to grab a knife, or something equally sharp.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” He growled, looking around to make sure no one was staring. “Just listen to me, okay?”

“Why?” The kid was trying to keep his tone aggressive, but Dean could hear the underlying fear mixed in there too.

“Last night, was that you?”

“Was that me what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. You know damn well what I’m talking about.” Dean stated. “If that was you, then you mentioned you were on the streets. All I want to do is pay you back for saving me last night.”

The kid wasn’t meeting his gaze now, but seemed more resigned, no longer attempting to break free of Dean’s hold.

“Are you hungry?” Dean asked, softly.

The kid furrowed an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well if you are, I’ll buy you some food, it’s the least I can do.”

The kid’s gaze finally found his, eyes untrusting. “No funny business?”

Dean winced at the question. “Fuck. Of course, not.”

“Fine, now get off me.” The kid pulled his arms away from Dean.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m not telling you that.” The kid scoffed.

Dean rolled his eyes before looking at the stuff the kid had shoved back on the shelf when he’d approached. “Were you gonna’ steal all this?”

The kid shrugged.

Sighing, Dean picked the discarded items up before taking them to the counter.

The kid’s eyes widened. “Hey, don’t tell the owner. Please! You don’t need to buy me food, you never have to see me again, we’re good, just please, let me go.” He begged.

The owner walked over to the cash register.

“Morning.”

“Mornin’.” Dean greeted. “Just these, thanks.”

The kid stiffened beside him, his body language once again becoming cagey.

The owner rang his up before Dean payed for the items and handed the bag to the kid and exited the store.

After a few seconds, he heard the sound of the kid’s footsteps rushing to catch up to him.

“Why did you do that?” He asked, tone that of clear confusion.

“You like Josie’s?” Dean ignored.

“The diner down the street?”

Dean nodded.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Good, come on then.” Dean smiled.

* * *

Pushing open the door, the smell of grease hit him, and with that, he knew he was home. With a smile, he pulled his hood up, hoping that he wouldn't be recognised before he looked around at the old place. The red booths had definitely seen better days, clearly having not been replaced since he’d left.

Walking over to the table, he sat down before the kid shuffled in opposite. Dean finally got the chance to take a good look at him. With shaggy brown hair, and the remains of a black eye, the kid wasn’t looking so good. That coupled with clothes that were practically falling off him had Dean wincing in sympathy.

“What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything. Like I said, I just want to say thank you.” Dean smiled. “You’re shaking.” He observed, noticing the kid’s hands.

“Everyone is staring.” The kid answered, looking impossibly small for someone his height.

Dean furrowed an eyebrow. “No one cares. Honestly, look.” He motioned around the diner with his hand. “No one has even glanced over here, they pre-occupied with eating.” Dean picked up two of the menus from the end of the table and slid one down in front of the kid. “What do you want?”

“I’m fine. You just order for you.” The kid stated.

“Come on, pick something, my treat.” Dean smiled.

“I can’t. I couldn’t.”

Dean just looked at him. “You saved my life, dude, the _least_ I can do is buy you some grub and a drink.”

“Fine, I’ll have a coffee please, black.” The kid reluctantly answered, eyes focused on how Dean had pulled his hood up. “Are you really trying to hide your black eye?” He smirked.

 _‘That works’_ Dean thought.

“Shut up.” He smirked too.

“How did some guy manage to get the jump on you in the first place?”

“I was a little drunk and then he just came out of nowhere with a gun, and then you know the rest.” Dean answered. “I know I thanked you last night, but I really am grateful.”

“Don’t mention it, would’ve done it for anyone.”

“I know.” Dean smiled. “I’m Dean, by the way.”

The kid nodded but didn’t supply his own name.

“I’m gonna’ go order.” Dean sighed, getting up from the booth and walking over to the counter.

“Welcome to Rusty’s, what can I get you, Sweetie?” The waitress asked before a smile appeared on her face. “Oh my goodness, you’re Dean Winchester!” She exclaimed.

Dean quickly put a finger to his lips. He glanced back at the kid to make sure that he hadn’t heard.

“Oh, sorry. That was so unprofessional. Let’s start that over.” The waitress quickly apologised. “What can I get for you?”

Dean smiled, genuinely before looking down at her name badge. “Thank you, Kathy. We’ll have two burgers, fully dressed. Two baskets of fries, a stack of onion rings, and two black coffees, please.”

“That’ll be $8.95.”

Dean pulled a $10 note from his pocket and handed it over.

Kathy stuffed the money into the till before handing him a table number.

“Thanks.” Dean smiled.

“You’re welcome.” Kathy smiled in response as she placed two mugs on the counter before filling them. She then walked off into the kitchens.

Reaching across the counter for the order pad Kathy had written the order down on, Dean flipped to a blank page before scribbling down his signature and ‘Thanks for not ratting me out, Kathy’ along with a smiley face at the end. He then picked up the mugs and walked back over to the table. “Here you go.” Dean placed the mug down in front of the kid.

“Thanks.” He blew on it for a few seconds before taking a gulp.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly in amazement. “How the fuck?”

Sam smirked. “I’m sorta’ just used to drinking it like this.”

“Nice.” Dean nodded with smile.

When Kathy came over with the food, she placed the tray down on the table with an ‘Enjoy!’ and a smile before walking back off.

Removing his own burger and a basket of fries, Dean pushed the tray into the middle of the table. He then began to peel open the wrapping before piling a few fries into his mouth. Glancing across the table, Sam was still taking small sips from his coffee, hands wrapped around it to leech the warmth form the mug. He hadn’t made a move to take the food.

“Eat up.” Dean stated, pushing the tray more towards Sam.

Sam looked Dean with a confused expression before realisation kicked in. “This is for me?”

“Who else would it be for?” He smirked.

“Dean, you didn’t...”

“Hey, none of that. Come on, before it gets cold.” He didn’t care how motherly he sounded, as long as the kid ate.

“Sam...”

Dean furrowed an eyebrow. “What?”

“My name’s Sam.” The kid supplied as he slowly unwrapped the wrapping of the burger with the upmost care for the contents inside, as if it was some priceless relic. He then picked up a fry and took a nibble from it.

Dean watched as Sam’s eyes closed, savouring the taste before he put the rest of the fry in his mouth. He then took another and another.

Sam’s stomach gurgled before as immediately wrapped an arm around it.

“Eat slowly.” Dean advised.

“It’s not my first rodeo.” Sam replied before his eyes widened. “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

“Hey...” Dean began softly. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” He removed his wrapped burger and a basket of fries from the tray. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s fine.” Sam tried to change the conversation. “Thanks for this, you really didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to.”

Sam picked up the burger and took a small bite from it. His small groan made Dean smirk.

“Like it?”

“It’s amazing.” Sam nodded.

“Good.” Dean smiled.

* * *

Once they’d finished eating, Dean held the door open for Sam as they left the diner.

“So...Do you have somewhere to stay?”

Sam nodded.

“Honestly? Because you didn’t say that last night.” Dean pressed.

“I’m staying with a friend; I was just using that to make him give in.” The kid explained. “I’m fine, Dean.”

“Well...” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper and a pen. He quickly scrawled his number down before handing it to Sam. “If you need anything, and I mean anything, give me a call, okay?”

Sam nodded. “Thank you.”

“Don’t forget your food.” Dean smiled, handing over the bag from the grocery store.

“I’ll see you around, Dean.” And with that, the kid walked off.

* * *

It had been a few days since Dean had last seen or heard from Sam and while that was encouraging, it was also worrying too. He was hoping the kid might have called him just to let him know he was okay, but Dean knew the chances of that happening were small. Sam was clearly independent, and didn’t like people getting involved in his business, that much was made apparent in the small time Dean had spent with him.

His phone began to ring.

Dean rushed for it, hoping that it was one of those ‘speak of the devil’ moments, but it wasn’t.

“Carl?”

“Deano, good to hear from you, mate. How you doing?” His manager asked.

“Yeah, it’s been nice to be home, I just wish it could have been for a happier reason.” Dean answered.

“Well, I’ve been talking to the other guys and they were thinking about maybe going on a reunion tour. What do you think?” Carl explained enthusiastically.

Dean didn’t feel the same.

“Dean?” His manager spoke up after a few seconds of awkward silence. “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here. I...I’m just gonna’ need some time to think it over.”

“Yeah, sport. Take some time.” Carl paused. “Just maybe not too long, okay?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’ll talk to you some other time, Carl.” Hanging up the call, he sighed. As the screen changed back, Dean immediately noticed the notifications.

‘3 missed calls’

“Shit!”

Immediately calling the number, he waited anxiously for the kid to pick up.

“Dean...” A weak voice at the end of the phone spoke up before he could even say hello.

“Shit! Sam, are you okay?” Dean’s tone became that of immediate panic as he heard how not good the kid sounded.

“Need you...”

“Where are you?” He was already on his feet, out the door, and in the Impala before the kid had a chance to answer.

“Under the bridge at the far side of town. I wasn’t feeling good and then I threw up a few times.” Sam explained, tone that of confusion.

“It’s okay, Sam. I’m gonna’ come and get you, alright? Just stay on the line, okay, buddy?” Dean tried to reassure. “Are you calling on your own phone?”

“Stole it a week ago from some rich guy. He obviously doesn’t give a shit about his money ‘cause he hasn’t cancelled it...ughh...” Sam’s tone broke off into a moan.

“Hold on, Sammy. I won’t be long.”

“You called me Sammy...”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Dean apologised.

“I like it.” Sam spoke up after a few seconds.

Dean smiled. “I’m nearly at the bridge, Sam...Sam?...Sammy?!” He shouted.

“I’m still here.” An even weaker tone had replaced the kid’s previous.

“Shit.” Dean took a breath. “Don’t do that to me, kiddo.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“How old even are you?”

“Twenty one.”

Dean smirked. “Wow, you are older than you look.” Reaching the bridge, he threw open the door and sprinted over. Trudging through god knows what underfoot, Dean wasn’t surprised that the kid had gotten sick living in these conditions.

Eventually spotting Sam, Dean knelt down beside him. “Hey, buddy.” He spoke, softly. “Let’s get you outta’ here and back to somewhere warm.” Gently helping the kid to his feet, Dean wrapped an arm around Sam’s shoulders and walked him over to the car, guiding him into the passenger seat before getting in himself.

Starting the engine, he glanced over at Sam.

“You need a hospital.”

“No hospitals...” Sam’s eyes were half-lidded, sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Sam...”

“No...hospitals...”

Dean took a breath. “Fine.” Throwing the car into drive, he sped down the road, sending a prayer to the gods as the lights stayed green for him. “Just hang in there, I don’t live too far from here.”

“Thank you...” Sam’s head rested against the window as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

“No problem, kiddo.” Dean smiled, but it fell away as his concern for the kid took over. “Two blocks...one block...here we go.” Pulling onto the drive, he clambered out and rushed round to Sam. “Okay, kiddo, let’s get you inside so we can get some meds into you.”

“No...” Sam moaned.

“Sorry, kid, if you won’t let me take you to a hospital then you are definitely going to let me get someone over here to check you out, and they will come bearing gifts of good drugs to help you get better.”

“Stop calling me kid...”

Dean smirked. “No chance.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

Helping the kid over to the couch, he laid him down on his side, just in case he threw up again, before grabbing a blanket from the other couch and gently placing it over Sam. “Now you stay there while I call my friend, okay? Shout if you need anything.”

Sam nodded.

* * *

When Cas arrived fifteen minutes later, the kid was asleep on the couch, and Dean was beside himself with panic.

“Dean.” Cas smiled as he walked into the apartment. “It’s been a long time.”

“Come here.” Dean pulled his friend into a hug, the two of them having not seen each other since they’d graduated high school together.

“So, where’s the patient? And while you’re at it, you can explain why you’re back in Lawrence without telling me.” Cas smirked.

“He’s through here, and my Grandmother died so I was back for his funeral.”

The Doctor’s eyes widened immediately. “Millie! Awww, she was awesome.” Cas sighed. “You doing okay, Dean?”

Dean nodded before pointing to the Sam. “The kid’s actually been helping to be honest. Worrying about him has distracted me from everything.”

Cas furrowed an eyebrow as he knelt down in front of the couch. “Who is this?”

“Sam. He uh, he sorta helped me out.”

“Helped you out how?”

“Well, I got mugged by some idiot with a gun. Sam managed to talk him out of it.” Dean explained.

Cas’ eyes widened. “Holy shit, Dean!”

“I’m fine, just a fading black eye.”

The Doctor moved the blanket, eyes widening as he did so. “Fuck!” He took in the sharp bones sticking out under taut sickly skin. Cas’ gaze rose to meet Dean’s.

“I met him a few days ago and bought him some food. He told me that he had somewhere to go and I stupidly believed him. Luckily I had given him my number ‘cause he used it to call me to say he was ill. He had been staying under the bridge.”

“Christ...”

The Doctor opened his bag and grabbed his stethoscope, placing the buds in his ears and then gently lifting the collar of Sam’s shirt, placing the chest piece down over his lungs. “Yeah, that’s a chest infection alright.”

“How bad?”

“Could be worse.” Cas answered. “It would have definitely have gotten worse if he’d stayed under that bridge though.” He sighed. “Keep him warm, make him take these, and just...” Cas paused. “...frankly just give a shit about him. He isn’t the first street kid I’ve ever treated, but they’re all the same. They just need someone to care.”

“Cas, I...” Dean began, but the Doctor interrupted him.

“I know you’ve got that glitzy life that you’ve got to get back to, but this is important too. You can’t just leave him.”

“I wasn’t going to leave him like this!” Dean shouted. “I just mean, what happens when I do eventually have to go back.”

Cas scoffed, shaking his head. “Then I guess you’re going to have to decide what’s more important to you.”

“I’ve not even known him for a week.”

The Doctor shrugged. “So?”

Dean bit his lip, trying not to get angry. “I’m sensing a bitterness.”

“Congratulations, it’s only taken you, what, seven years for you to figure that out.” Cas retorted.

Dean furrowed an eyebrow. “Cas, what?”

“You left.” He stated. “You left, and I was on my own. Did it even enter your head to call me every so often? I mean, it’s not like we were friends for eighteen years?”

“Are we really going to do this right now?” Dean asked.

“Yes! Because I need to stop you from doing the exact same thing to a kid who needs you a lot more than I did.” The Doctor explained. “Just ‘cause you’re ‘Mr. Bigtime’ doesn’t mean you can just fuck people around whenever you feel like it.”

“Are you finished?” Dean’s tone was that of exasperation.

Cas huffed, grabbing a tub from his bag and shoving it towards Dean. “Two every four hours.” Packing up his stuff, he walked out the living room and opened the front door. “Call me when you take that stick out your ass.” The door slammed shut.

* * *

Sam couldn’t remember much since he’d gotten ill. He knew that he’d called Dean, and that Dean had taken him back to his house, but the rest had just been a blur. The faint sounds of a guitar being played stuck in his head, and he’d heard someone singing a few times too, but not much else.

“Mmmm...” He groaned, flickering gloopy eyes open and looking around at the room he was lying in.

“Sleeping beauty awakens.”

“How long?” Sam’s gravelly voice asked.

“Four days.” Dean answered. “That infection really kicked your ass.”

“Shit...I feel like death.”

“You up for a shower, it might make you feel a little better?”

Sam nodded.

“Need a hand getting up there?”

“Yeah.”

Dean crouched down to the couch, wrapping an arm around the kid’s shoulder and slowly helping him to his feet. The two then crossed the living room and made their way upstairs at a snail’s pace. Dean pushed the bathroom door open. “Just shout if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Dean.” Sam smiled before entering the bathroom and locking the door.

* * *

“Deano!” Carl greeted down the phone.

It had been a month since Sam had recovered from his chest infection and Dean was still no further forward with his decision of what the fuck to do with his life.

“Hey, Carl.”

“So, I’ve been working with the other guys on some ideas for the tour. It’s definitely going to be a greatest hits celebration, but I need your go ahead for some of the concepts we’ve been discussing for the overall theme.”

“Carl, listen, I...” Dean attempted.

“In terms of tour dates, we’re going worldwide, not just nationwide. We’ll all be very, very rich by time we finish, I promise you that.”

“We’re rich anyway, Carl.” He scowled. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re just presuming I’m going to say yes.”

“Well...I’m not being rude, Deano, but you haven’t exactly got anything else going on.” Carl paused. “I mean, I know you did some solo stuff, and won that Grammy, but things have dried up on your end to the point where without this tour, you’re probably just gonna’ fade out of the limelight.” He smirked. “Call by my office when you’ve stopped being an idiot.” Carl hung up.

Dean scoffed, throwing the phone across the room with a growl.

Sam walked in from the kitchen, furrowing an eyebrow as he watched the phone go flying. After four weeks of consistent eating, good night sleeps, and safety, the kid was barely recognisable. The scraggly hair had been trimmed, Sam wearing it pulled back with a hair tie, the too-prominent bones were just starting to disappear, the cuts and bruises were healing up nicely, and the kid just generally looked healthier all round. As well as that, Sam himself seemed much happier, Dean noticing how much more relaxed the kid was in the apartment.

“Dean? You okay?”

He took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. “Yeah.” Dean nodded. Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

Sam shrugged. “What could you possibly have to say sorry for?” He smirked, plunking himself down on the couch, bowl of stir fry in one hand, fork in the other.

Dean smiled. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Mmmm.” The kid nodded in agreement, mouth full of noodles.

“I need to go and see someone today, you wanna’ come with? You’ll have to wait in the car when we get there, but I’ll take you out for food afterwards, my treat.”

“It’s always your treat.” Sam stated. “I get paid at the end of the week. I don’t care what you’ve said, I’m giving you that money.”

“You can try, but I’m not taking it.”

“Dean...” Sam sighed.

“You worked for that, Sam.”

“You took me in, Dean. I don’t really know how else I can pay you back for that if you don’t let me _actually_ pay you.”

“I like having you around. I’ve not really ever had company. That’s good enough for me.” Dean smiled.

Sam threw his head back. “Fine.”

Dean grinned.

“Don’t look smug.” The kid smirked.

“I’m not looking smug!” Dean laughed.

“Yes you are, that’s your smug face.”

“Just eat your stir fry.” Dean smirked before walking off upstairs to get changed.

* * *

Pulling up outside Carl’s office, Dean turned to Sam.

“You gonna’ be alright in here?”

Sam nodded. “I’ll be fine, Dean.” He held up the book he’d been reading.

Dean rolled his eyes with a smirk. “Nerd.”

“Jerk.”

Dean laughed before getting out the car and walking into the office.

“There he is!” Carl exclaimed with a smile.

“Hi, Carl.” He greeted, neutrally. “Can we get this over with, my friend’s waiting in the car.”

“Of course, I’m glad to see that you’ve come to your senses.”

Dean scoffed. “I haven’t decided anything; I just want to know what you guys have planned.”

Carl grinned. “Well, it’s going to be _spectacular_!”

* * *

Not expecting Dean to be so long, Sam had finished his book. Dumping it onto the dashboard, he sat in silence for a few minutes before giving in to his boredom and flicking the radio on.

* * *

“So...” Carl asked, eagerly. “What do you think?”

Dean couldn’t help it when a smile escaped. “It sounds amazing.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear!”

* * *

“ _Next up, we have one of my favourite artists. This is Dean Winchester with ‘Impala’._ ” Stated the radio DJ.

“You’re an Impala.” Sam smiled with a chuckle, patting the dashboard.

The light sound of an acoustic guitar played through the speakers before the artist began to sing.

‘ _You became part of the family, in 1973_ ’

‘ _And six years later, along came baby me_ ’

‘ _Army men they stormed some far-off bay_ ’

‘ _One casualty was caused by the door’s ashtray_ ’

‘ _Legos, they rattle, every time the heat comes on_ ’

‘ _Name, scratched in the, back seat, forever moooooooorrrrrre_ ’

Sam’s eyes were wide as tears trickled down his cheeks. That was Dean. That was why he’d heard him playing guitar, and why he could hear someone singing when he was ill.

Which meant that he was sat in the exact Impala Dean was singing about.

Turning to look over the bench into the backseat, Sam gasped as he spotted the army man crammed in the ashtray.

“Holy shit...” He didn’t know what to think, or what to say, or how to even react. “What the fuck is happening?” Sam asked, tone breathless and confused.

As the song ended, the DJ once again spoke up.

_“That was Dean Winchester with Impala. Now there are some rumours floating around that the multi-platinum selling musical geniuses that were Wayward are thinking about doing a reunion tour together. Dean of course was the guitarist from the band before he went solo two years back. We haven’t really heard much from him in the last few months or so since he finished his tour. Wherever you are Dean, we want you back, man. So, to close my show, here’s ‘Wayward’, with Dean Winchester on vocals, this is ‘Swimming Against the Tide’._

The door of the Impala creaked open and Dean climbed in.

“Sorry for being so lo...”

His sentence broke off as he heard his own voice singing on the radio, Dean turned to Sam. The kid looked terrified.

“Sam, I...”

“Is that you? Are you Dean Winchester?” Sam asked, quietly.

Dean sighed. “Yeah.”

“Oh my god...” The kid buried his head in his hands.

“I can explain.” Dean attempted.

But Sam wasn’t listening.

Putting the Impala, into gear, he pulled away.

* * *

After an awkward few minutes of silence, Sam’s anger had reached boiling point.

“So what exactly am I to you? Some kind of project?” He accused. “Will it help your career if you’re seen helping some poor, street kid out, ‘cause I’ve heard all about your little reunion tour and how you’ve been missing for the last few months. Is this how you’re going to get yourself back in the spotlight?”

“That’s not true.” Dean answered sadly.

“You sure about that?” Sam scoffed. “So I’m not gonna’ see myself on the front page of every newspaper in the country in a few weeks time, am I, when the news of this fantastical new tour hits.” He paused. “I can see it now, ‘Dean Winchester proves that he’s just practically perfect in every way after being caught talking to some disgusting, grubby kid. Isn’t he just a national treasure?’.”

“It’s not like that!” Dean growled.

Sam smirked angrily. “Oh, but it is though. I knew it was too good to be true, because it’s always too good to be true. I just stupidly thought that maybe you were going to be better than that.” The strength in the kid’s body language began to fail him. “You did this to me, you bastard. I knew how to take care of myself, and I had promised myself that I would never allow myself to trust anyone again, because every single person. Every. Single. One. Has fucked me over. But you...goddamn you, I thought you were different.” Sam’s voice shook, tearfully.

“Sam...”

Sam went to tell Dean to get fucked and pull over but his eyes widened as he noticed the car speeding towards them at the junction.

“Dean!” He screamed.

And then everything crumbled around them.

* * *

It had been a few hours since they’d first been admitted. The Doctor’s had discharged Sam with little more than a few cuts to his face caused by the glass, Dean however needed more tests, which was why Sam was nervously pacing back and forth in the waiting room, desperately hoping for news.

“What is your business with my son?”

Sam jumped, turning to the source of the voice.

“Well?”

The woman was in her fifties and dressed impeccably. She also looked incredibly cross.

“Who are you?” Sam asked.

“Mary Winchester.”

His eyes widened.

“I presume you’re that Sam boy that Dean was telling John about.” Mary looked him over in disgust. Sam had never felt so small. “My son is a great man, and a talented musician, but yet he chooses to associate himself with someone like yourself. He may not be able to see through this little façade you’ve pulling over him.”

“Mrs. Winchester I...” Sam attempted, but was cut off.

“My son has a kind heart, but he is also young and foolish. Everything falls down to natural selection, and that is what my son fails to understand. He doesn’t see that people like us succeed in life. We get the nice houses, and the money, and the good health care, and people like you...” She paused, scanning her eyes up and down Sam. “...you work for scraps, eat little, and die young and cold on the streets. And that’s the way it is. The way it will always be. Natural selection.” Mary took a breath. “I would like you to cease contact with my son.”

“No...”

“I will be the one to tell him that, it will better if he hears it from his mother. And if you leave now, I won’t even drop in the part about how you have simply been using him for money, shelter, and food over the past few weeks since your first meeting. He will be upset, he will cry, and then with time he will get over it and move on with his life.”

“I would never hurt him. Never. Dean is my friend.” Sam began in a soft tone filled with emotion that he was trying his hardest to hold back tears. “He looked after me when I was sick, and that’s all I’m trying to do now.” He paused. “I know what you think of me and you’re right about most of it. I used to sleep on a different friend’s couch every night, I have barely enough money to buy food some weeks, I work in a dead-end job during hours that no one else would ever want, that normally leave me with black eyes and bruises because of the type of clientele that comes through the door. I have no form of plan for the future, I was sleeping on the streets before I met Dean, and I’m an idiot in comparison to your son, but I’m trying.” Sam paused once again. “Like I said, Dean is my friend, and I can’t say that about many people. I didn’t want him to do all those things for me, I and I tried to stop him, but he’s strong-willed.” Sam smiled.

“My son has a kind heart.” Mary stated quietly.

“I know.”

“I would like you to leave.”

“I just want to know that Dean is gonna’ be okay. Please, I just need to know.” Sam begged.

“If you aren’t gone in ten seconds I’m calling hospital security and they will _throw_ you out.” Mary threatened before turning and walking off down the corridor.

Physically shaking, Sam breaths became faster and faster until he found himself falling into a panic attack. Reaching out a hand he felt around for the top of the chair before lowering himself down onto it. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he placed his hands over his mouth and forced himself to take deep breaths until the panic subsided and the attack was replaced by harsh sobs.

“Are you okay?” A voice asked.

Sam turned to see an older man with a striking resemblance to Dean standing with a worried expression next to the row of seats in the waiting room.

“Not really.” He answered, truthfully.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with my wife, would it?” The man continued.

Sam’s eyes widened. “Mr. Winchester?”

“The very same.” He nodded.

“I...I was just leaving, I promise.” Sam fumbled. “I just...I just want to know if Dean’s okay. Just please, please tell me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Woah...” John silenced, softly. “Dean is gonna’ be just fine. The doctor gave him some of the good stuff to deal with the pain, but apart from that, no major harm done, just a few cuts and bruises.”

Sam visibly relaxed, releasing a deep breath as he did.

“I’m guessing my wife got to you first.”

Sam nodded.

“Yeah, I can tell.” John smirked. “Stay as long as you want. Just ignore Mary.”

“She was just looking out for him, I suppose.” Sam answered.

“That doesn’t mean she can threaten you.” John stated, sternly. “You have every right to be here, and I know for a fact that Dean wouldn’t give a shit about waking up to see us at his bedside. He would want you, my boy is infatuated with you.”

Sam blushed.

John smirked. “Dean told me about how you two met. Apparently you saved his life.”

“I would have done it for anyone.”

“Yeah, Dean said you were a modest one.” John paused once again. “You’re good for him, you know? I’ve never seen Dean happier than the past few months he’s spent with you. He never shuts up about you. There are very few people in this world that Dean trusts. He sees everyone as a threat that just wants to be around him because of...well...for reasons that have nothing to do with friendship. You’re different, and what happened tonight has only made that more apparent.”

“I nearly killed him. He could have died.”

“You could have died too.” John responded. “You were both in that car.”

“We were arguing and then...and then that car just came out of nowhere and slammed right into Dean’s side.” Sam’s voice wobbled.

“These things happen.” John stated softly. “But the main thing is that the two of you are okay. That’s all that matters.”

Sam nodded.

John looked at the young boy beside him. The kid looked wrecked both physically and emotionally. “You need to get some rest. Could I give you a lift home?”

“I’m uhh, I’m kinda’ between places right now.”

“Oh.” John answered. “So where have you been staying?”

“Ummm...” Sam paused. “Dean’s apartment.”

“Ohhhhh...”

Sam blushed.

“Do you want a lift?”

“I don’t have a key.” Sam answered.

“I have a spare.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” John smiled.

Sam smiled softly too. “Thank you.”

“No problem, kid.”

* * *

Sam slept on the couch that night, if you could call staring awake for hours and eventually passing out from exhaustion sleeping. His brain was happily replaying the crash over and over and over again in endless torture. The sun had risen as the light poured through the drapes, colouring the living room in a soft yellow glow.

The front door clicked.

Sam’s head shot up immediately, throwing the cushion he was hugging to the side and stumbling to his feet sleepily, rounding the corner to the hallway, eyes widening immediately as he caught sight of the figure.

“Dean!”

“Hey, Sammy.” Dean smiled, softly.

“Oh my god, Dean...” Sam rushed over and gently pulled him into a hug. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean it. I was just scared, I was so scared that you were just gonna’ ditch me, because I like you, I really like you, and I’ve never had that with anyone else. You’re the first person that’s ever really gave a crap, and I didn’t want that to end. I’m so sorry.”

Dean wrapped his arms around the kid. “I would never do that, Sam.” He paused, taking a breath. “Everything you heard about the reunion tour, it was just the other members of the band trying to make some more money. Nothing was confirmed, and none of them had my go ahead for it. That’s why I had to go to that office, our manager wanted me to meet him to talk about the tour. He had all these ideas ready to go, and he wanted us to be tour by the Fall.”

Sam smiled, although Dean could see the weakness in it. “That’s amazing.”

“I told him I wasn’t interested.”

The kid furrowed an eyebrow in confusion. “Why?”

“Because a friend of mine said that I had to decide what was most important to me. And as much as I enjoyed being in ‘Wayward’, or even touring on my own when I was doing my solo stuff, there was always something missing.” He paused. “There was always _someone_ missing.”

“Dean...”

“Those guys, they aren’t my friends, not anymore. When ‘Wayward’ split, we split because I wanted to go solo, so you can imagine how much they liked me back then. The only reason they’re prepared to be within six feet of me is because they want to piggyback on my success from winning that stupid Grammy.” Dean smiled at Sam. “You’re what’s important to me, Sammy.”

Sam was crying now.

“I know you’ve pretty much done it anyway, but I want you to move in with me, permanently. What’s mine is yours.” Dean smiled. “Because I care about you, and I’m sorry it’s took me so long to realise that.”

“You can’t...”

“I do.” Dean was trying not to cry himself. “And I want to hunt down every single person who has ever told you that you are worth less than anyone else, because you’re perfect, and kind, and you never fail to make me smile.” He paused. “Plus, we have the coolest answer to ‘so how did you two meet’ ever.” Dean smirked.

Sam laughed. “Yeah we do.”

“I love you.”

A tear trickled down the kid’s cheek. “I love you too.”

Dean smiled, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Sam’s lips.

“Your Mom doesn’t approve.” Sam smirked.

He rolled his eyes. “That woman doesn’t approve of anything.” Dean leaned closer and kissed Sam once again.

* * *

Backstage, Dean was pacing around, his pre-gig nerves after three years of being away hitting him more than ever before. He felt sick to his stomach at the thought of how many people were out there, all expecting him to be the same as he was before.

What if he had lost his touch? What if his voice wasn’t what it used to be? What if he disappointed them all?

Two arms wrapping around him from behind brought a smile to his face.

“Stop panicking, Mr. Winchester, this is nothing compared to some of the gigs you’ve done before. Remember Arrowhead Stadium, that was what, seventy-six thousand? This is only twenty.” Sam reassured. “You sold out Madison Square Garden four times over. I was talking to some of the tech guys and apparently, that’s a big thing for you musicians.”

Dean laughed, placing his hands over his boyfriend’s. “You’re not really good on your music, are you?”

“Not at all.” Sam smirked.

“One minute, Dean.” Tracey called.

“Thanks.” Dean nodded before turning so that he was facing Sam. “You’re gonna’ be waiting for me at the side of the stage, right?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Sam smiled. “You’re gonna’ knock ‘em dead out there, and then me and you are going to grab some food from that nice burger place down the street, and you’re paying Mr. Bigbucks.” He grinned, cheekily.

_“Ladies and gentlemen do you have a treat instore. Performing for the first time in three years, it’s Dean Winchester!” The announcer bellowed._

“It’s a date.” Dean smiled before grabbed his guitar and slowly ascending the stairs to the stage.

The crowd went insane, the cheers almost deafening as the arena lit up in applause.

Sam was bursting with pride as he peered round the curtain, observing the absolute adoration Dean’s fans had for him. He was their hero.

“Hi, guys.” Dean spoke into the microphone, addressing the crowd. “It’s been a while since I was last on a stage like this and a lot has changed since then.”

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Sam turned to see Cas standing beside him.

“What are you doing here?” He grinned.

“Dean invited me.” Cas smiled. “And I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

Glancing through the gap in the curtain, Dean noticed his best friend stood beside Sam. Gasping lightly, he broke out in a smile before turning back to the crowd. “So you’re all probably wondering why I’ve been missing for so long. Well...I have some news actually.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “Dean, no...”

“I met someone.” Dean announced.

The crowd whistled.

He smirked. “Yeah, I have never been lucky in love, I will admit that. I have always thought that people would only like me for my music, not the real me, but that wasn’t the case this time. This time, they didn’t give a shit about my music, ‘cause they didn’t even know I was a musician.” Dean explained. “And even when they did find out, they still didn’t care.” He smirked.

The crowd laughed.

Dean took a deep breath. “ _He_ is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I love him so much.”

The crowd were silent for a few seconds before they once again erupted. ‘Awwws’, applause, and cheers almost blew the roof off the place as cameras flashed from every angle.

“Now, a few months after Sam and I became a couple, I wrote a song. And I may be a little biased, but he is the most amazing boyfriend in the world, so writing this song was pretty easy. If you guys are okay with it, I want to play this song for him.” Dean asked. “Is that alright?”

“Yes!” The crowd screamed in unanimous response.

“Then please welcome Jessie Williams on piano.” He introduced as Jessie walked out on stage. Dean smiled, looking to backstage. “This one is for you, Sam, and it’s called ‘Now I’m Yours’.” As Dean threw his guitar strap over his head, Jessie began to play. The soft sound of the piano silenced the arena before Dean started singing a few seconds later.

‘ _The darkest of days, you made them brighter_ ’

‘ _My heart is a flame, and you’re the igniter_ ’

‘ _I knew I could fall, a man on a wire_ ’

‘ _You gave me it all, our love won’t expire_ ’

Dean began to strum, the rest instrumental until he came to the chorus.

‘ _Now I’m yours, and you are myyyyeeee-ine_ ’

‘ _See the stars, watch them shyyyyeeee-ine_ ’

‘ _I was truly on cloud nieee-ine_ ’

‘ _From the moment you were myyyyeeee-ine’_

As the song came to an end, tears were streaming down Sam’s cheeks.

The audience were equally emotional themselves before they began to chant ‘Kiss, kiss, kiss’ over and over.

Dean turned to his boyfriend.

Sam took a breath before walking through the curtain and out onto the stage. Trying to only focus on Dean, he made his way over and stood in front of him.

“You’re lucky I love you.” He whispered before pressing a kiss to Dean’s lips, the crowd erupting in celebration as he did so.

Dean smiled. “I love you too, bitch.”


End file.
